needed it – and each had received not only Howard bonuses but also the start-up
money that Brian and I had arranged for each of them.
Leave it to `worthy causes’? That is thin gruel, my friend. Most of such money is
sopped up by administration, i.e., eaten by parasites.
The original capital had come from the Ira Howard Foundation; I decided to send my
accumulation back to the Foundation. It seemed fitting.
I bought a modern condo apartment near the campus, between Central Avenue and Lomas
Boulevard, signed up for a course in pedagogy at the University, not with any
serious intention of studying (it takes real effort to flunk a course in pedagogy)
but to establish me on campus. There are all sorts of good social events on a campus
– motion pictures, plays, open lectures, dances, clubs. Doctorates are as common on
campus as fleas on a dog, but nevertheless a doctor’s degree is a union card that
gives entrée to many places.
I joined the nearest Unitarian church and supported it with liberal donations, in
order to enjoy the many social benefits of church membership without being pestered
by straitjacket creeds.
I joined a square dance club, a Viennese Waltz club, a contract bridge dub, a chess
club, a current events supper club, and a civic affairs luncheon club.
In six weeks I had more passes than the Rocky Mountains. It let me be fussy about my
bed mates and still get in far more friendly fornication than had been the case in
the preceding quarter of a century. I had not limited myself to George Strong during
those years, but I had kept too busy for serious pursuit of the all-time number-one
sport.
Now I had time. As some old gal said (Dorothy Parker?), `There is nothing as much
fun as a man!’
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`Male and female created He them’ – that’s a good arrangement, and for ten years I
made the most of it.
I did not spend all of my time chasing men… or in letting them chase me while I
ran very slowly – the latter being my MO because it makes a man nervous for a woman
to be overt about it – it is contrary to traditional protocol. Males are
conservative about sex, especially those who think they are not.
We Howards were not inclined to keep in touch with all our relatives; it was not
feasible. By the year I moved to Albuquerque (1972) I had more descendants than
there are days in the year – I should keep track of their birthdays? Heavens, I had
trouble keeping track of their names!
But I did have some favourites, people I loved irrespective of blood relationship if
any: my older sister Audrey, my older `sister’ Eleanor, my brother Tom, my cousin
Nelson and his wife Betty Lou, my father and I missed him always. My mother I did
not love but I respected her; she had done her best for all of us.
My children? While they were at home I tried to treat them all alike and to lavish
on each of them love and affection – even when my head ached and my feet hurt.
Once they were married – Now comes the Moment of Truth. I tried to do unto them as
they did unto me. If one of my offspring called me regularly, I tried to call her
(him) as often. To some I sent birthday cards, not much else. If a grandchild gave
attention to Grandma, Grandma paid attention to that child. But there just isn’t
time to be both openhanded and evenhanded with one hundred and eighty-one
grandchildren, that being the number I had (unless I lost track) by my ninety-ninth
birthday.
My special loves – Blood did not necessarily enter into it. There was little Helen
Beck, who was just Carol’s age, and the two little girls went to Greenwood school
together in first and second grade. Helen was a lovely child and utterly sweet
natured. Because her mother was a working widow, Helen spent quite a bit of time in
my kitchen until we moved too far away.